Caged Desire
by I Suffer From Hubris
Summary: Why was it that the one man who kidnapped Simon would be the one who constantly haunted Simon's thoughts and dreams? Why was it that Simon was so tormented by his burgeoning desires for the man that the boy vampire could not sleep at all without being visited in his dreams by his best friend's father? Rated M for insinuations and violence. Non-explicit, don't worry.


**A/N: I'm back with another oneshot! I hope you guys like this (technically it's my first "lemon", he he he). ENJOY!**

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****Caged Desire**

by: I Suffer From Hubris

Why was it that the one man who kidnapped Simon would be the one who constantly haunted Simon's thoughts and dreams? Why was it that Simon was so tormented by his burgeoning desires for the man that the boy vampire could not sleep at all without being visited in his dreams by his best friend's father?

Best friend's _father_. There really was no lower that Simon could sink. Except, for maybe, his best friend's _mother _or _older brother_. Or an elf. Yes, elves were hot. So were gnomes. Simon just couldn't get enough of their pointy hats. They were so... pointy and conical.

Simon was snapped out of his thoughts by the harsh, grating sound of his cellmate's voice shrieking, "Are you listening to anything I'm telling you, Simon?"

Simon was startled, and said immediately, "Yes! No! Maybe! What's the right answer, Maia?"

Maia growled at Simon, closing her eyes and leaning against the cage bars. "You're _hopeless_, bloodsucker. I don't know _how_ I could _ever_ consider a good-for-nothing _leech_ my friend. You asked me about my problems and zoned out halfway through-"

Simon cut her off with an indignant, "I never asked you about your problems! What do I look like, a therapist?"

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, because Maia ferociously snarled at Simon, glaring daggers at the frightened vampire. Still, she didn't answer.

"Exactly," Simon said. "Now leave me alone. I was in the middle of a wonderfully amazing train of thought that didn't need to be cut off by your endless whining."

It was at that point that a deep, throaty chuckle resonated through the cell, raising the hairs on the back of Simon's neck. It was... the chuckle of the subject of Simon's previous fantasies.

"Valentine..." Simon exhaled breathlessly as the gigantic man came into view. He was even more beautiful in person...

Simon looked down quickly, both to hide his blush and to prevent his feelings from surfacing.

But Valentine seemed to know already, saying in an amused voice, "Simon, may I ask you to accompany me to my office, my dear boy?"

Simon looked up, flushing furiously, and stuttered, "O-o-o-o-o-okay." Valentine then entered the cell, unlocking Simon's chains and offering a hand to pull the vampire up.

They subsequently went on the long trek to Valentine's personal office that was on his boat. Simon, being the awkward boy he was, tried to make small-talk. "So," Simon said in a strangled tone. "What do... um... Well... What is it that you need me for?"

"Oh, just... something..." Valentine said vaguely, grinning ahead of the two.

That statement of Valentine's made Simon's fantasies kick into overdrive. "Something" could mean anything to a hormonally-raging, sex-crazed teenaged vampire like Simon. _Simon_ was no Edward Cullen. _Simon_ never wanted to wait until marriage. But not wanting to seem dorkish, Simon said nervously, "I... hope it's something good. Not... something I should be... worried about... Is it?"

Valentine turned his brilliant smile onto Simon for an instant, saying brightly, "You'll see."

"Okay then..." Simon said, trailing off and coughing to mask his slight embarrassment.

Suddenly, Valentine stopped abruptly, causing Simon to plummet towards the ground. Thankfully, Valentine's strong arms were there to catch him, and Valentine said with an easy chortle, "Careful there, little vampire."

"Um, yeah... It's not my fault..." Simon was rambling now. "The floor- it's kind of slippery... You know... It would be hard not to fall..." Simon was still disconcerted by the feeling of Valentine's arms around him, which had not left as of yet. It was making Simon burn with desire. Valentine's arms were not letting go at the moment. In fact... they seemed to be getting tighter...

"Slippery?" mused Valentine, his face a few inches from Simon's ear. "I'll have my minions fix that, if that makes you happy."

"Uh... O-ok-k-k-kay... You can... let go me n-now..." Simon stammered.

Valentine's arms left him instantly. "As you wish."

"T-thanks," Simon choked out.

Valentine proceeded to open the door, gesturing for Simon to go in. "_Entrez-vous_."

Simon kept his eyes downcast as he walked past Valentine, getting a clear look at Valentine's shiny, pointy shoes. Simon always liked fancy shoes, and anything pointy for that matter. Like Raphael's fangs, which were nice and pointy. But.. they were on Raphael, and that kind of killed it. But anything else that was pointy was fair game. Gnome hats, fancy Italian shoes, pencils... they were just so pointy. And Simon had a fetish for pointy things.

The next thing he knew, he was sitting on Valentine's desk (how did he get there?) and Valentine's face was hovering in his field of view, black eyes glinting humorously. "Simon," he said.

Simon jumped slightly, but Valentine's muscled arms kept him secured on the desk. "W-what? Sorry. What were you saying?" Simon squeaked.

"Oh, nothing," Valentine said mysteriously, before pausing a moment. "You seem to have a slight habit of... zoning out, as the kids say these days."

"Yeah," Simon said immediately. "Just when I think of pointy things." Then he mentally chastised himself for his silly answer. What would Valentine infer from that?

Valentine drew a remote control out from a pocket and pressed a few buttons. Simon could only gape as a bookshelf unfolded itself from the wall and lowered into a full-sized bed, the lights dimmed, a fireplace appeared, and romantic music began playing from nowhere. Simon waited for a good thirty seconds for Valentine to say, "Oops, wrong button," but it didn't happen.

Simon finally understood why Valentine had brought him here, and his excitement grew.

He looked up into Valentine's eyes with slight fear, which made Valentine's pupils larger. What? Oh, whatever.

"You know," Valentine whispered huskily, his hand reaching out to cup Simon's cheek, "I was hoping you'd be the vampire I'd find."

"Um, why is that?" Simon asked, trembling slightly from the older man's touch.

"Because," Valentine said, his voice barely an exhalation. Then, he moved his hand up to Simon's hair and stroked it with a curious expression on his befuddled-yet-sinister-yet-_hawt_ face. His question shocked Simon completely: "Simon, do you love me?"

Simon choked on air for a second, gasped, and hyperventilated for a good eight minutes before he dared to see if Valentine was still paying attention. Simon hesitantly raised his dark eyes, only to meet the pleased, puzzled black orbs of Valentine. That set our favorite boy vampire choking, gasping, and hyperventilating for another twenty-six or so minutes, but Valentine's interest never once wavered.

Finally, Simon put on his Confidence Pants, staring Valentine straight in the eye and proclaiming in a strong, confident voice, "Yes." He scarcely believed his own words, but wore a determined smile and repeated, "Yes. I love you, and I find you..." The vampire grappled for the word. Finally, it came to him. "Beautiful."

Valentine- the poker-faced, inexpressive _Valentine_- smiled with real joy. The older man's eyes welled with tears and he wept, "_Simon_."

How much emotion was put into that simple word shocked Simon, shocked him right to the core. He'd never pegged _Valentine Morgenstern_ as the sensitive type, and here he was tearing up at the truth.

Suddenly, Simon saw Valentine in a new light. He'd always seen the man as just an evil mastermind, and a sexy one at that. Clary's dad, and a sexy one at that. _Jace's_ dad, but a sexy one at that.

_Heh_, Simon thought half-guiltily. _Maybe this is where Jace got his looks and sex appeal from... WAIT, _WHAT?_ I _hate_ Jace! _

Here Simon was, about to hook up with arguably the single hottest gay man over thirty-five since Severus Snape and _all Simon could think about was said man's son who Simon didn't even _like_ that way?_ But if the situation called for it, Simon would readily gulp down some blood from the neck of _that_ golden-eyed god. Not that Jace would ever let him or anything... But, oh, if he did...

_SNAP OUT OF IT, STUPID ADHD-LIKE BRAIN!_ Simon chastised himself. To distract his silly brain further, Simon made a daring move and closed the short distance between his mouth and that of the still-sobbing Valentine.

And it was like his nerves exploded.

Now, Simon didn't really "get around town" or whatever when it came to romance. He could count all the people he'd kissed or been kissed by on one hand. Clary obviously, Eric had force-kissed him once when he stole Simon's virginity (band practice? With only the two of them? How the hell had Simon fallen for _that?_), Raphael a few times, and Isabelle. Oh, and Inquisitor Herondale, but that was a completely different story. So, it just stands to reason that this ultimate specimen of manhood known as Valentine Morgenstern offered Simon a different experience entirely.

So, surely enough, it was only a matter of seconds before Simon found himself pinned to Valentine's desk and passionately making out with the single hottest gay man over thirty-five since Severus Snape.

They stayed in that position for a super-duper long time (i.e. twenty-five minutes), by which Simon was feeling a heck of a lot less nervous, but also breathless and shivery because Valentine was feeling him up in certain… areas. (His ears.)

Finally, Valentine picked him up and deposited him on the comfy surface of the bed, naturally removing various, annoying, unnecessary articles of clothing on the way.

Simon was in heaven.

Wait. Actually, since he was a vampire… He must have been in hell but that didn't compute with what he was feeling at the moment…

Jewish Purgatory. That was it.

Valentine stepped away from him, Simon whining at the momentary lack of contact. Valentine was smirking in a very Jace-like way that turned Simon on _immensely_.

_Oooh_, he thought. _Jaaaaaace._

_Hold on! This is VALENTINE! Stupid, idiotic, dumb-_

Valentine said, still with that devilishly handsome expression on his face, "You like pointy things… right?"

Simon gasped, "Y-yes. Yes, I do. Kind of. Like pointy things, that is. Heh-heh-heh…"

Valentine dug in his pocket for a second, Simon wondering what he was unearthing (_Hmm. It's the same pocket that he took the remote out of! How many things does he have in that pocket, anyway? Is it like a clown car? I don't like clowns very much. They're not pointy at all. They're just… poofy. And round. I hate round things. They're so… un-pointy. What is he getting out of there, anyway? A condom? Since when are condoms pointy? Do we really _need_ a condom? I don't think I'll be able to get pregnant, at least for a while… I've got to schedule that appointment)_, and finally came up with a shiny, metallic letter-opener.

Simon was at a loss for words, entranced by this very shiny, very _pointy_ object in Valentine's grasp. He'd thought making out with the man was great, and here was a chance for a whole different type of opportunity! It took bushels of self-control for Simon not to cry out, "GIMME GIMME GIMME!"

Instead, he exhaled slowly and asked awkwardly, "Hey, um, can I, uh, have that?" He tacked on as an afterthought, "Please?" May as well be polite, he figured.

Valentine's smirk intensified. "Heavens, no, my dear boy."

He knelt down in front of Simon's face (depressing Simon because he thought he wouldn't get the letter-opener. Kissing was _lame_ compared to the extreme wonders of pointy objects). Shocking the vampire lad, he lightly trailed it up one of Simon's wrists, dragging the sharp tip along Simon's tender forearm.

Simon shivered and closed his eyes, delighting in the wonderful sensation of the metal edge scraping across his skin.

There was one thing, however, that Valentine forgot to factor in and that Simon was too out-of-it to realize: the utter _sharpness_ of letter-openers in general. Unbeknownst to soon-to-be lovers, Simon was bleeding profusely. Whoops.

Valentine, still wielding the letter-opener, brought it up Simon's other wrists _very carefully_ yet not noticing all the blood pouring out from the boy's arm and staining the silk sheets.

Simon didn't even feel any pain; he was too enthralled with the pointy object being brandished by the smexy, smexy manly man above him.

Valentine dragged the letter-opener across the flushed skin of Simon's throat when his eyes finally caught sight of the blood. All over the sheets. And Simon. And Valentine himself. And the letter-opener.

"GAH!" he shrieked uncharacteristically. "SIMON, YOU'RE BLEEDING! YOU'RE BLEEDING! I HATE BLOOD! EEEK!"

Simon almost drunkenly opened his eyes. "W-what?" Then he caught sight of the blood and felt the stabs of pain in his neck and wrists. "HOLY SHIT!"

Valentine ripped his own shirt off and threw it at Simon, who clutched the fabric to his neck, trying to staunch the bleeding. The older man, a Morgenstern by name, seized Simon in his arms, sprinted out into the hallway, and threw him in an empty prison cell, running away, screaming, "I WASN'T HERE! THIS CAN'T BE PROVEN! YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING! GAAAH!"

Simon was confused, to say the least. He was in a lot of pain, and could feel the life draining from what he assumed would soon be his corpse. "Uhhhh," he moaned, losing consciousness and sliding down the wall until he was sprawled awkwardly in a corner.

That was the last thing he remembered, for a while.

When he opened his crusty, tired eyes, he was shocked in a dazed and hung-over way to see… Jace? Simon's eyes zoned in on Jace's jugular, felt his fangs unsheathe, and that was that.

A little while later, the remainder of Simon's dreams came true, as he found himself pouncing through the air like a crazed wildcat, tackling _The_ Jace Morgenstern to the ground and sucking blood from that juicy, succulent neck-flesh.

Fin.

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**Well, I tricked you! HAHA! It's an entirely different kind of lemon that I'm calling cantaloupe! I hope you enjoyed it! REVIEW!**


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